Eyes like Flint
by Hushbye Hayley
Summary: Mello hated Near. It was a well known fact. But how did it start? MxN, slight MxM. Gift for my friend Abi. T cos I'm paranoid.


**I really don't like this couple, but my friend, Abi, dared me to write an MxN. **

**The characters don't belong to me. If they did, things would be very, very different.**

Mello hated Near. He hated him with every fibre of his heart and soul. He hated him right to the very essence of his soul.  
When had his hatred truly begun? It had not been after the first test, that was for certain. Of course, Mello had been angry, no, furious, but not full of hatred.  
That had come when he'd kissed Near.  
It started with the test. Mr Wammy himself had declared that, since A's death and B's disappearance, there were no more successors to L (The third in line, Chance, had withered away to an almost unrecognisable girl). L had declared that he would choose his new successors from the highest ranked children in the orphanage, and these rankings would come from tests and assignments, written and planned by L himself. And the first test would be a week away.  
Mello studied for the entire week. No breaks, save for lessons, lunch and the irresistible pull of the full bladder. Matt was worried for his health by the end of the week, and Matt never worried. But Mello had turned down chocolate.  
It was serious.  
Mello went into that first test feeling tense and anxious. What if someone was better, had studied more, was more... worthy?  
But his confidence had sprung when he saw people scratching their heads, confused, by questions he skimmed over easily. He was worthy. He was the one L would choose. He could feel it in his bones.  
He had walked out of that classroom with a spring in his step. He had been in a good mood for the rest of the day. He didn't snap at Matt when he couldn't get him chocolate. He played video games with him, as well. He smiled at Linda in class. No one really knew what to make of it.  
And then, the fateful day arrived, and Mello was in a panic all over again. What if he had skipped a question! What if he had forgotten something? What if he didn't come top? What if he came last?  
What if...  
What if he wasn't the one L wanted?  
Breakfast had dragged by for Mello. He had sipped his hot chocolate nervously, and glared at everyone angrily.  
And then...  
And then they were going into class, and sitting down, and the teacher was passing around the papers. He seemed to be moving in slow motion as he walked towards Mello, holding out the paper. Mello could not reach for it. He had worried, spent his days and nights studying, hell, he had even turned down chocolate for it!  
The teacher gave him an odd look, and placed it on the table. Mello pulled it towards him. His mouth felt dry. He could feel his throat tightening, and his hands shaking as he turned the paper around to see...  
Two numbers: 99%. He was one mark off full marks. He flipped through, trying desperately to find the mistake.  
He found it: a maths equation, and next to it, in curly, eloquent,yet neat handwriting was written: 'You missed a step of the working.'  
He knew who the writing belonged to. Who else would it belong to but L himself?  
Mello felt panic rising in his throat, but he suppressed it. Who was gonna get higher than 99%?  
The Sheep.  
That's what they all called him. Mello and Matt had never really talked to him before. They'd had no need. They may have been troublemakers, but they were no bullies.  
Yet.  
Near had got 100%. He was the new, unimpressive little albino freak who had topped Mello's entire week of studying. Mello had never even seen him study; all Near did was sit there and play with his toys. Mello was furious, to say the least. He decided he would have to teach the little sheep a lesson: don't mess with Mello.  
The next day was Saturday, the weekend, so there was no lessons. Mello had breakfast with Matt as usual, but instead of going back to their shared room, he went to someone else's instead: Near's.  
He ran down the corridor, and pushed open Near's door without knocking. The little freak was sitting on his bed, one leg dangling down the front of the bed, the other held up against his chest. No toys surrounded him, but tarot cards were placed in a semi-circle around him.  
"Welcome, Mello." his dull, emotionless voice drawled. With an expert hand, he picked up a tarot card, holding it lightly between thin, expert fingers. Mello was captivated by the fingers; if they could hold those cards like that, what else would they do?  
He shook his head angrily. That was not what he was here for. He strode forward, and grasped Near's shirt angrily, intending to hurl him against the wall. But Near's eyes caught him in a steady, even stare. They were beautiful, really. They looked like one colour when you saw them from a distance, but look at them up close was something else entirely. They were like a piece of flint, full of different hues of the same grey. They started out as a light storm grey on the outside, which slowly eased into a much darker grey, like the dark slate he and Matt occasionally came across outside. They looked completely blank from far away, but now, Mello could see them brimming with emotion.  
And Near's hair... he had always been fascinated by it, and now he had the urge to run his hands through it, just to see what it was like.  
And the way the shadows fell on it; while some parts of it were a pure, snowy white, others fell into shadow and seemed almost blue.  
And, now that Mello looked, there was so much of Near he had missed, so much that was beautiful.  
It was fair to say that Mello wasn't thinking completely straight. With this in mind, he would think later, that was the reason he did what happened next. He hadn't got much sleep the night before, thinking about what he was going to do the next day, and Near's eyes, oh, Near's eyes, had caught him up in something that he couldn't stop. With all this in mind, he wasn't quite in control of himself when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Near's.  
It was sweet, short, and brought an array of mixed feelings into Mello's confused mind. One was a strange, soft sort of glow, and the other was a furious, bright glaring beam of realisation. The hard anger won when he heard someone say his name.  
Pulling away from Near, he turned around to look at the door. Matt was standing there, eyes wide in horror behind his goggles. He was clutching at the front of his striped shirt, right over his heart, and Mello could see tears welling up under his goggles. Mello turned back to look at Near, who had a both triumphant and knowing smirk on his face.  
With a shriek of fury, Mello hurled Near at the wall. The albino boy stared back at Mello with the same cocky smirk.  
Mello couldn't see the beauty in those eyes anymore.  
Again, Mello walked forward, and kicked Near in the stomach, and then punched him in the face. Mello was pleased to see that it would probably bruise.  
"What'd you do that for, you little albino freak?" Mello howled. Near didn't react, just kept on staring at Mello as the older boy kicked and punched at him again and again. But no matter what Mello did, Near would not stop smiling. Even when Mello had scratched his cheek hard enough to draw blood, he continued to grin.  
Mello had turned away when he felt enough had been enough, to find Matt still standing at the door, goggles now removed, staring at him in shock. He pulled Matt into an embrace, and the gamer tensed in his arms, as if he was expecting Mello to treat him in the same way he had just treated Near. Mello rested his head in the crook of the taller boy's neck, and just stood there for a moment. Then he took Matt's hand and pulled him away from Near's room.  
They never spoke of the incident, but Mello knew that neither he, nor Near, nor Matt would ever forget it.


End file.
